


Go Away Another Day

by paranoidangel



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-22
Updated: 2011-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoidangel/pseuds/paranoidangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah finds herself in strange and unknown territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Away Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to [Rain, Rain, Come Again](http://www.paranoidangel.me.uk/fanfic/2008/08/18/doctor-who-rain-rain-come-again/#more-222), but can also be read on its own.
> 
> The original was written when the only canon we had for Sarah's parents' deaths was in her official bio that states she was five years old when they died. This piece sticks with that canon, which contradicts SJA canon that says she was a baby when her parents died.
> 
> Thanks to hhertzof for beta reading.

Closing your eyes and opening them a moment later to find you were somewhere else was an unusual experience, even for Sarah, who'd had several unusual experiences since she met the Doctor. This sort of thing only ever happened metaphorically, never in reality. One moment she was standing outside her back door in the rain, wondering what the funny smell was, and the next she was standing outside a much bigger door getting soaked in the downpour.

She hadn't felt anything peculiar before it happened and now she was just cold and wet, so she opted for going indoors where it was at least dry. Inside was an ordinary kitchen, albeit one built for giants. And a few decades out of date too, based on what she could see from this angle. It looked familiar, but she couldn't place it. Based on its size she had visions of being in Jack and the Beanstalk land, which made her afraid to call out to whoever might live here, so she tiptoed to the other end of the kitchen, listening for any giants crying "Fee, Fie, Fo, Fum," as she went.

"Sarah Jane, there you are."

Sarah stopped dead and looked up at the woman who had spoken. It was her Aunt Lavinia, although much younger and much taller. Maybe this was some sort of Brobdingnag in the past. Which made as much sense as anything else at the moment.

"Less than a day in this house and I'd already lost you," Aunt Lavinia said fondly. "And you're all wet. What were you doing out in the rain?"

Sarah shook her head. She didn't have a good answer for what was going on. She was supposed to be going to dinner with Harry, but having just got back from a job, she'd been running late as usual. She'd only stepped outside to see how cold it was, then she smelt the rain. None of which explained how she got here.

Aunt Lavinia sighed. "Let's get you out of those wet things." She put an arm around Sarah's shoulders, so Sarah had no choice but to go with her up the stairs. Despite Aunt Lavinia's size Sarah felt safe around her. Although she told herself she shouldn't, because Aunt Lavinia could be anyone in disguise, so she tried to stay on her guard.

"I'll get a towel," Aunt Lavinia said, then left Sarah in the bedroom.

It was definitely her bedroom. Now she knew where she was she knew why she recognised the rest of the house. Her bedroom looked exactly as Sarah remembered when she was little. The bed had white sheets on it, the chest of drawers was at the other end of the room and the curtains had blue flowers on. There was even her teddy propped up beside her pillow. He looked newer than she remembered - he had been falling apart by the time Aunt Lavinia convinced her to get rid of him.

Sarah started when she looked round and saw the full-length mirror by the door. The reflection in it was her childhood self. As she stepped forward and reached out to touch it, it was clear that it was an ordinary mirror and she was looking at herself. It explained why everything looked so big, but not how she ended up in her younger body and back in time.

She turned away from the mirror just as Aunt Lavinia came back with a towel. "Let's get your hair dry." She started rubbing at Sarah's hair and Sarah ducked out of her reach.

"I can do it," Sarah complained, putting her arms up to stop Aunt Lavinia getting near her head again.

"All right." Aunt Lavinia seemed happy about that and handed the towel over. "Can you dress yourself too?"

Sarah was about to say that of course she could, when she remembered she was just a child and she should sound like a child. Which would be fine if she knew what she'd sounded like at this age. She didn't know at what point small children said proper sentences and how many long words she was likely to know. So she just said, "Yes."

Aunt Lavinia nodded. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

After she left Sarah dried her hair on the towel and found a t-shirt and some dungarees in a drawer. Getting dressed took more effort than usual, because this body didn't work in the way she was used to. And everything was a different size, even if her clothes were in proportion.

Afterwards, she went down the stairs cautiously, still unsure how she was supposed to behave. Once she reached the living room she found it didn't matter because Aunt Lavinia was leaning against the fireplace, handkerchief in one hand, crying. Sarah didn't remember ever seeing Aunt Lavinia cry before.

At her entrance Aunt Lavinia looked up and dried her eyes on her handkerchief. "Don't mind me, Sarah Jane." She sat on the sofa and gave Sarah a small smile.

Sarah abandoned her caution and went over to sit next to her. She'd never thought before that Aunt Lavinia would have been upset at her brother's death. You didn't when you were a child. In Lavinia's position Sarah thought she would probably have been overwhelmed. It couldn't have been easy to be mourning your brother while having to look after your five year old niece. So Sarah leaned over and hugged her aunt.

Aunt Lavinia hugged her back. "You're a good girl, Sarah Jane."

Sarah smiled up at her. There was a part of her that was glad to be spending some time with Aunt Lavinia. They were rarely in the same place at the same time these days, and as much as Sarah liked Moreton Harwood, it wasn't home the same way this house had become.

Aunt Lavinia wasn't one for such displays of sentiment, so a few moments later she said, "I think it's time for tea. Are you hungry, Sarah Jane?"

Sarah nodded, thinking it was far better for Aunt Lavinia to think she was unusually quiet, rather than sounding oddly like an adult. But she wasn't interested in playing like a child with whatever toys she had here while her aunt cooked, so she asked, "Can I help?"

Aunt Lavinia smiled. "Of course you can."

It turned out that being in a child's body meant she couldn't reach much and Aunt Lavinia wouldn't allow her near a sharp knife, so Sarah's help mostly consisted of working the egg-timer and tasting things. Although that was about her usual level of skill when it came to cooking, even when she was an adult, so she didn't mind.

After dinner they played cards, although Sarah had to let Aunt Lavinia suggest the game. She suspected that at the age she looked now she wouldn't have known gin rummy or poker. Snap turned out to be surprisingly hard to play as an adult and Aunt Lavinia wasn't inclined to let Sarah win.

Bedtime was earlier than Sarah expected, but she was more tired than she would have thought this early in the evening. Maybe it was this body needing more sleep or maybe it was the effect of being brought here. She lay in bed trying to sleep and worried about what she was going to do tomorrow before she realised she wouldn't be here tomorrow.

She remembered coming to Aunt Lavinia's house the day after her parents died, once they let her out of hospital. She'd gone outside, smelt something she couldn't place, and ended up outside another house she didn't recognise. Eventually a strange, but kind old man who'd known her name had looked after her. He'd told her a story too and in the morning she'd woken up back here.

When she finally fell asleep she dreamed her parents death all over again. So it came as a relief when Aunt Lavinia opening Sarah's bedroom door a crack to check on her woke her up. Her heart was racing and she sat up.

"You're supposed to be asleep," Aunt Lavinia said, although she came in and sat on the edge of Sarah's bed anyway.

"I was. But I had a bad dream." She hoped that was the right phrasing. Would she have known the word 'nightmare'?

Aunt Lavinia reached for Sarah's teddy and handed it to her. "Nothing can hurt you as long as Teddy and I are here."

Sarah smiled and lay back down. She knew nothing bad was going to happen, otherwise she'd have remembered it. "I'm glad you're here," she said, realising she'd never told Aunt Lavinia how grateful she was for looking after her after her parents died. She wished they were here, of course, but Aunt Lavinia was the next best thing.

Aunt Lavinia smiled. "I'm glad you're here too." She leaned down to kiss Sarah on the forehead, then left her to sleep.

After that, she didn't dream again.

~*~*~

When Sarah woke she could hear someone in the house. For a moment she thought it was Aunt Lavinia, until she remembered she wasn't in that house any more. She wasn't fully awake yet, so when whoever it was came closer and touched Sarah on the shoulder she didn't jump. When she opened her eyes she was glad to see Harry kneeling by the sofa. Surely she'd gone to bed in bed last night?

"How did I get here?" She sat up, yawning.

Harry studied her carefully, but avoided her question. She didn't know why. "Would you like some tea?"

"Oh, yes, please," she said with feeling.

He smiled and went to the kitchen. While he was gone Sarah inspected her surroundings. There wasn't anything out of place, but if Harry was here so early in the morning, he must have stayed the night. She only had one bedroom, but if she'd slept on the sofa, why had he slept in her bed? He was always adamant about her having the bed if either of them ever needed to stay at the other's flat.

She struggled to think back to what had happened last night, from his perspective, but it was a long time ago for her and she could only remember bits and pieces. Out of everything it was his story about the giant robot that had stuck with her. She had enjoyed it more than any of Aunt Lavinia's tales.

By the time Harry came back with tea and, unexpectedly, some toast too, she'd cleared the sofa so there was enough space for them both to sit down.

"Can you tell me what happened yesterday?" he asked, then started eating his slice of toast.

She had a sip of her tea before putting it on the coffee table and exchanging it for the plate. "It was the day after my parents died and Aunt Lavinia took me in." She bit her lip. She'd told Harry some of this, but it had been long enough ago that she hadn't had so many emotions associated with it. Now it felt like it had happened yesterday all over again. "I wish it had been the day before so I could have seen them again."

Harry looked as if he was going to say something, but the phone rang. Sarah left her toast behind and got up to answer it. If she'd given a moment's thought to who might be calling her at this time of the morning, she might have been more worried. But as it was, she didn't have any idea until the voice at the other end told her Aunt Lavinia was dead.

Sarah couldn't say much through the lump in her throat as they told her Lavinia didn't suffer. Sarah briefly promised to go to Moreton Harwood to deal with the funeral arrangements before she put the phone down. She couldn't quite believe this was all happening now and she stood by the phone, trying to work out what she should do next.

She looked over at Harry, who was staring at her with a worried expression on his face. "Aunt Lavinia's died," she told him. She wasn't sure if it was her saying it and making it real, or him hugging her, but it was then that she cried and held on tightly to him.

Eventually she managed to stop, refused Harry's offer of his handkerchief and wandered into the kitchen. She wasn't sure what she thought would be in there and it was only after she was standing in the middle of it that she remembered the mug of tea she'd left in the living room.

Outside it was raining and she was glad. It wouldn't be right for it to be bright and sunny today. She took another step and leant against the sink to watch the raindrops splatter into the puddles on the path. From Harry's reflection in the window she could see he'd followed her and not yet put his handkerchief away. "Even the weather knows," she said.

He put a hand on her shoulder and it was a comfort to know he was here and she didn't have to do this on her own. "That only happens in stories. In reality the weather does as it pleases."

Of course Harry would be practical like that, but she remembered the smell of the rain yesterday before dinner. It hadn't been normal rain - it had to be caused by something else, even if she didn't care what it was at the moment. "It was the rain that did it."

Harry said nothing. He probably didn't believe her, but she knew she was right, so she turned to face him. "Didn't you smell it?" He had been here at some point yesterday evening.

"Well, yes, I did." He frowned, still not understanding. "But--"

"It knew." She took his hands and almost managed to smile as she realised what it all meant. "It knew it was my last chance to see Aunt Lavinia and took me back there." Of course, had she known, she would have gone last night without the aid of the rain. But no one could guess the future.

"Sarah, we're not living in a story."

He squeezed her hands, which was probably supposed to be comforting. But Harry was always so disbelieving, even when the evidence was right in front of him. "And time travel is impossible," she reminded him.

He sighed. "All right, you win."

He took her back to the living room, but she couldn't face the toast now. She did manage to take the tea with her when Harry suggested she ought to get dressed at least. Once she was dressed she wondered if the odd rain was still working. So she pushed her feet into a pair of shoes and rushed outside, not stopping to close the back door. She looked up at the sky, willing the rain to take her again.

"What on earth are you doing?"

She shouldn't have been surprised Harry had followed her, given how concerned he'd looked. But Sarah only care about the rain, which smelt ordinary and wasn't going to work. "I want to go back. I want to see her again."

"Sarah." Harry reached out and put a hand on either side of her head, so she had to look at him. "Lavinia knew you loved her."

She bit her lip. He'd only met her the once, how could he know? She was sure he was right, but she still wanted to be able to tell her. "It's not fair." She leaned against him.

He put his arms around her again and stroked her hair. "Life isn't. The good guys don't always win."

Except in Harry's stories. In his world the good guys always won and evil was always vanquished. Sarah wished she could live in that world, for a while, like she had when she was five years old and found herself here. "And the robot doesn't always live."

At his silence she lifted her head to look at him. He looked shocked that she remembered that. She wanted to laugh at his expression, but settled for a grin and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for all he'd done the past couple of days, and all she'd need him to do now she didn't have Aunt Lavinia any more.


End file.
